Tiny Hands & Feet

For the past 4 weeks I have been sick, like an alien has taken over my body. I wake up in the morning and the process of brushing my teeth makes me gag. I have to put down my toothbrush and turn around so I can have my head in the toilet and either dry heave or throw up the water that I just drank. I make my way into the shower, my back against the water flow while I retch so violently that I can't breathe. I have taken to sitting down in the shower. For some reason it makes the retching stop. I slowly get dressed, sipping on glasses of ice cold water. I try to nibble on some Saltines, but that usually ends up with a trip to the toilet. The 30 minute train ride into the city is so unbearable I have driven into work almost every morning. Sitting in an hour to 2 hours of traffic is better than sitting, cold sweating, holding onto a plastic bag for 30 minutes on a train.
Work is awful. Saltines are in my left hand while either a freezing cold Gatorade or ice cold water is in my right hand. I'm always a light shade of green. Putting on makeup seems useless. Why do it when it is going to wash off every time I splash water on my face after having my head in the toilet? Speaking of head in the toilet, do you know how awful it is to throw up in a public restroom? First, since I don't want to tell anyone yet that I'm pregnant, I have to make sure all of the stalls are clear. 2nd, I strategically line the toilet with paper because, well, it's a public restroom and I don't want to touch the toilet. 3rd, god forbid anyone walk in while I'm throwing up! I have to stop mid-vomit, rotate my body so my feet aren't facing the toilet and try my best to hold it in until they leave.
I get home at night, put my pajamas on, curl up on the couch and try to imagine one single thing that sounds appealing to eat. My poor husband, he's probably starving because the thought of making an actual dinner makes me want to gag. Recently, I was craving Mexican food (my favorite food type). We ventured over to our favorite Mexican restaurant. Reluctantly I ordered vegetarian fajitas. They arrive at my plate, sizzling, smelling amazing. I barely fill up the tortilla, a little sour cream, a little spinach, a little red pepper, and a little cheese. And oh the spinach! I stop mid-swallow and gag up the entire bite into my napkin. I decide to nibble on the rice, and a few minutes later, make a bee-line to the restroom. So much for Mexican food.

And, can I please discuss these grotesque things that are growing on my chest most people would call breasts? They are huge, they hurt, they ache, they itch, they tingle, my nipples throb if even a drop of water touches them. I have outgrown my cute little size B bras and have already moved on to a C. My husband says they are hot! Is he kidding me? Taking my bra off at night is such a chore. I have to use one hand to release the clasp and slide the straps off my shoulders while the other hand gently cradles my boobs so I can slowly let them down. The noise I make when they are "free" sounds like I just had the best orgasm ever. It's something to the effect of, "Ooooh oh oh aaah aaaaaah oh! Thank God!" It's absurd and gross and the books tell me they are going to keep on growing. Great.

What is up with the acne? I have pimples on my chin, on my forehead, on my back, and on my chest. And as I said above, I barely even wear makeup so there is nothing to cover up these craters. I can't use any of my acne creams because they aren't pregnancy approved. So I sit and wait for one to disappear while the next one pops up.

But wait, there is one saving grace to all of this...a baby is growing inside of me! Right, I forgot about that little point. And the other day, I had my 2nd ultrasound. The image pops up on the screen and I say, "Holy shit! Is that my baby?" It's tripled in size since the last ultrasound only 2 weeks ago and now it has tiny hands and feet! As the doctor was moving the camera around, I see a little hand move. The doc says, "Look! It's saying 'Hi Mom'!" At that moment my heart melted and all of a sudden, the nausea, the big boobs, the acne, the weight gain, the fatigue, the moodiness all seemed so very worth it.

J-E-T-S! Jets, Jets, Jets!

I remember as a child cheering for the Jets. My Dad's hero was Joe Namath and followed the Jets even after Namath was retired. So it was slightly ironic when I met my now husband and just a few weeks after we started dating he told me he was heading to a Jets game with his father. He was a Jets fan. My Dad would be so proud.

Over the past 5 years every Sunday during Fall and Winter, mid-August through the first Sunday of February, consists of sitting in front of our TV in our living room, sitting in front of a TV at a random bar, or piling into our car to watch a Jets game. Watching football has become one of my all time favorite pass-times with my husband. I love everything about it. I love the competition that goes with it, I love the food that you eat while watching it, and I love the beer and the bloody marys that go so well with every Sunday.

We have gone to our fair share of games together. Each game consists of a massive tailgate spread and lots of beer. And each game I still get the chills everytime Fireman Ed silences the crowd just at kick-off time and then on cue, in unison the entire stadium chants, "J! E! T! S! Jets Jets Jets!" right when the kicker hits the ball. It really is spine tingling.

December 31st, 2006, that's right New Year's Eve, our best friends and us went to a Jets game. New Year's Eve was on a Sunday. We left our apartment at around 10:00 am. It was a gorgeous sunny mild day for late December. We had a couple of coolers filled with food, margaritas and beer. We played football in the parking lot, grilled hamburgers, and drank while waiting for the game to start. The Jets actually won that game, but even if they had lost, we would all still remember it as our best New Year's Eve, ever.

Being a Jets fan, just like being a Mets fan, brings you many ups and downs and a lot of disappointment. We were there when Pennington got injured, again. We were there when we weren't sure if we would have a QB and all of a sudden we have Brett Favre...suddenly we had hope of a good season. We were there when Brett became a disappointment and our season ended with an 9-7 record, again missing the playoffs. Yet, Fall of 2009 we get a glimmer of hope. We recruited Mark Sanchez from USC as our quarterback. Not only is he supposed to be good, but he's cute. A win for both my husband and me! In addition to a new QB, we have a new coach, Rex Ryan, who is supposed to be a demon when it comes to defense. The season starts on an incredible high, 3-0, with a big win over New England! But, in true Jet fashion, they slowly turn a great start into something horrible, losing multiple games in a row. Our dreams of a possible chance at the playoffs were slowly fading away. Then the weekend after Christmas, the Jets were awarded their own Christmas present, they played the Colts who decided to not play their starters the whole game since they already clinched their spot in the playoffs. And what happens? The Jets win! Not only did the Jets win, but other teams lost! With the losses from other teams the Jets had to play the Bengals the final game of the season, at Giants stadium and they had to win.

So, on January 3rd, 2010, the Jets played their hearts out on primetime TV and won, shutting out the Bengals 37-0! They were going to the playoffs! A rookie coach and a rookie QB going to the playoffs! Interestingly enough they had to play the Bengals again, this time at Cincinnati. The talk on the radio the whole week leading up to the game was whether or not the Bengals "laid down" the week prior in NY. Who truly was the better team? History will now show, the better team was the Jets! They won 24-14! The Jets were going to the 2nd game in the playoffs! Sanchez is no longer considered a rookie.

My 31 year old husband jumped up and down like a little girl who just received a pony for her birthday. He high fived all of his friends and picked me up and swung me around. I have never seen him so happy. (Well at least not since the day he married me...) He looked at me and said, "I'm telling you now, if the Jets go to the Super Bowl, I'm going to Miami." And you know what? I'll let him go. I'll stay here by myself with my dog, watching the game on TV, and let him go. He deserves it. He's never seen them in a Super Bowl and most likely never will. And I know I may be getting ahead of myself, but if they go to Miami, so will my husband.

How is it possible that a game that brings us so many aches and pain, can also bring us joy ten times over all with one little win? It's called love, and I love this game.

Christmas

"Lake is frozen over. Trees are white with snow. And all
around reminders of you, are everywhere I go."

'Christmas is going to be a disaster this year. Maybe we should call it off', your brother says. You reassure him over and over again that it's going to be just fine. It's late at night on December 22nd, 2000. Your brother, who has flown in from Florida for Christmas, your Dad and you are discussing your mother's recent behavior. Your mother is asleep in her bedroom while the 3 of you have a few drinks in the kitchen. It's 2 days before Christmas Eve, a holiday your mother spends weeks getting ready for, you host it at your home, and not one thing has been done for the big night. The menu hasn't been finalized, food hasn't been purchased. Shopping still needs to be finished, presents yet to be wrapped. You vow to help her as much as you can to make your favorite night of the year a success.

"It's late and morning's in no hurry, but sleep won't set me free. I lie awake
and try to recall how your body felt beside me."

The next day you finish the grocery shopping. You tell your mother to finish the present shopping while you stay at home and clean. Christmas Eve day is spent wrapping the remaining presents and preparing the food. Your mother seems aloof.

"When silence gets too hard to handle and the night too long."

The rest of your family arrives Christmas Eve night. Everyone is in great spirits and happy it's Christmas. Your mother is in the kitchen preparing the coconut shrimp. She has burned every single one and thinks it's funny. She's singing Feliz Navidad at the top of her lungs, almost like she's drunk, but she has yet to drink a glass of wine. Everyone thinks it's funny. The remainder of the night is a success, despite the shrimp, you and your mom have pulled off another fabulous Christmas Eve. The following morning, Christmas Day, your mother is overly tired. You have breakfast, you open the gifts with your family, and your mother retires to bed in the early afternoon complaining of a backache.

"And this is how I see you, in the snow on Christmas morning. Love and happiness
surround you as you throw your arms up to the sky. I keep this moment by and
by."

The following month your mother is diagnosed with cancer of the lungs, kidneys, liver, and brain. She dies 10 months later. It's now understandable why Christmas was almost a disaster, her brain had been taken over with tumors. You wish you would have known that was going to be your last Christmas with her. You would have sung Feliz Navidad at the top of your lungs too and you would have laughed at how burnt the shrimp were.

"Oh how I miss you now...my Mom. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry
Christmas, my Mom."

Christmas hasn't been the same since she died. As hard as you have tried, you just can't get the same Christmas spirit back as when she was alive. Yet something has changed slightly. This year is the 2nd year in a row your Dad has come to visit you for Christmas. It's becoming a tradition. Christmas Eve was spent at a family friend's home. It was not quite like the Christmas Eve's of old, but it was nice. For the 2nd year in a row you have made the same Christmas morning breakfast, 'Holiday French Toast', just like your mother used to make. And in the evening you host Christmas dinner. You can't expect the Christmas holidays to be the same as it was 20 years ago or even 10 years ago, especially after a loved one dies, but you are starting your own traditions and it's nice to have your father share in those traditions too.

"Sense of joy fills the air. I daydream and I stare up at the tree and I see
You're a star up there."

You think this might have been one of the best Christmases you have had in the past 8 years. You cry when you drop your Dad off at the airport. You feel sad for him for being alone. You call him a little later and he tells you he bought a few NY t-shirts at the airport to have souvenirs from the weekend. He said he wants something to remind him of how great this weekend was. You smile knowing he enjoyed himself. You pause remembering your mom's laughter while burning those shrimp. Your heart warms knowing she's smiling now at the relationship you have established with your father.

"And this is how I see you in the snow on Christmas morning. Love and happiness
surround you as you throw your arms up to the sky. I keep this moment by and
by."

(*Thank you to Sarah McLachlan for her song, "Wintersong". It gets me through each holiday season.)

Holiday Traditions

It seems when I was growing up, my family had certain holiday traditions that we followed, never breaking them. Thanksgiving day, every year, was the day we put up our Christmas decorations. As a child, I would wake up go downstairs where I would find my mother bringing up the decorations from the basement. She would tell me egg nog was in the refrigerator. I would have a glass of egg nog, while I watched the beginning of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. I would help my mother decorate our home while watching the parade and after the parade was over we would turn on Christmas carols. We would listen to Andy Williams' "red album" over and over again until we finally decided to move onto a Hallmark Christmas album. As I grew older I would normally pass on the egg nog being that I would be hungover, but would still help my mother decorate while watching the parade and listening to Andy Williams. It was a tradition, we did it every year.

My aunt and uncle (who lived next door) hosted Thanksgiving dinner and each year after dinner was over my father would ask everyone to come outside to see his outdoor Christmas light display. Inevitably his timer wouldn't work or a strand would be burned out, but each year the lights looked as beautiful as the year prior if not better. It was a tradition, we did it every year.

Christmas Eve was at our home. For as long as I can remember, my father would wear navy blue pants, a white shirt, a red and blue and green plaid tie, red suspenders and a Santa Claus hat. I can almost envision him coming down our stairs, his frosty beer mug in hand, saying 'ho ho ho' in that outfit. It was his Christmas outfit. It was a tradition, he did it every year.

The fireplace would be lit. You couldn't see the top of our dining room table as the amount of food my mother made was outrageous. We had the same thing every year: cheese balls, cheese and crackers, deviled eggs, veggie crudite, polish mistakes, scallops wrapped in bacon, teenie weenies, swedish meatballs, shrimp cocktail, ham, turkey and roast beef that you could make into mini sandwiches, turtle cheesecake, an array of Christmas cookies, and my red velvet peppermint 3 tiered cake. It was the same menu. It was tradition, we did it every year.

The family would arrive and our private family mass would begin. Father Paul would always have Jonathan and Libby read the readings. We would all have a chance to say a Christmas message. Someone would end up crying especially during the times when my mother was ill. My dad would get distracted by a burned out strand of lights outside on our deck. My mother would giggle at something odd Father Paul would say. My grandma always took communion when she wasn't "supposed to" and the dog would always lay in the center of our family circle. I would play the piano. The mass would start with "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" followed by "Silent Night" for the offertory, "The First Noel" for communion and end with "Joy to the World" where my Dad would do a solo. It cracked everyone up. It was fun, it was tradition, we did it ever year.

The alcohol would start flowing as soon as mass was over. I would be instructed to play Christmas carols while my mother, my uncle, and my grandfather would stand around the piano singing along. After food it was time for presents. I played Santa distributing the presents to everyone. My spot was always on the floor. We would open gifts in the order of youngest to oldest. I loved it since I was the youngest. The night would eventually come to an end. The 4 of us would recap the night while we had one last drink. It was normally after midnight and we would wish each other a Merry Christmas. It was tradition, we did it every year.

Christmas morning would consist of us eating breakfast, sausage and egg casserole, baked french toast, and cinnamon rolls. We would open presents after breakfast. Grandma and Grandpa came over for dinner/leftovers at night. We were always a bit depressed once Christmas day was over. Such a nice time would come and go so quickly. We were sad, it was tradition, we did it ever year.

My mother is no longer here. I live in NY with my husband, my brother lives in LA, and my father is still at home in IN. I don't have a certain day to put up my tree. I put it up when I have the time. I changed my Christmas decorations this year. I didn't put up my North Pole Village that I have had since I was in high school. It didn't seem right this year and I didn't do it. I don't have a Christmas Day menu, I'll make whatever sounds good to me. My husband doesn't like egg nog, so I don't buy it.

My brother and father are coming out east for the 2nd year in a row to spend Christmas with my husband and I. Will this become a tradition? I'm hoping one day to have a family of my own and maybe start my own traditions with my children. Maybe one day when we have a family we'll put up our tree the day after Thanksgiving while drinking egg nog and listening to Andy Williams' album. Maybe each Christmas morning I'll make my own special breakfast, then we'll open gifts and at night I'll make a delicious dinner. It will be a tradition, we will do it ever year.

I Remember 8 Years Ago

I remember being so excited for my best friend's wedding weekend. I had just left the DMV. I was an official resident of Ohio (as if that's better than living in Indiana). The weather was a gorgeous Fall October day and I was cruising across I-74 heading West to Batesville. The windows were slightly down, John Mellencamp's Peaceful World was blasting on my radio. Even though I wasn't the maid of honor, since my best friend had 2 sisters, I was going to be the best bridesmaid ever. Her whole family was at the reception hall decorating and I couldn't wait to get there and help. First, I wanted to make a quick stop at mom and dad's house to say hi to my mom, give her a kiss and then go decorate the hall with tacky tulle and lace.


I remember pulling into the driveway and seeing the hospice nurse's car. A little odd because she was usually gone by 10:00 am. She was sitting in the dining room with my dad, both of their faces looked somber. I asked "What's up?" Determined not to let anything ruin the weekend I had planned. "Your mother took a turn for the worse" my father said. Followed by the nurse, "She won't make it through the weekend. You should take the day and say your goodbyes. She won't respond, but she'll hear you." WHAT?!? She won't make it through the weekend?!? But yesterday she was up, almost walking by herself, joking around with me. What do you mean she took a turn for the worse? The nurse responded "Sometimes, right before someone dies, they have their best days. They want you to remember them as being ok." She left my father and I sitting there blankly staring at each other. I looked over at her, lying in her hospital bed. It didn't even look like her. I had spent the past 10 months, with my mother, a cancer patient, and all of a sudden I didn't recognize her. I jumped up from the table and told my dad I had to go tell my friend I wouldn't be able to help her decorate.


I remember the 5 minute drive to the reception hall. I was thinking of how you tell someone your mother may not make it through the night and you can't be there to help her on her wedding weekend. My friend's mother first greeted me when I arrived. My friend's parents were good friends of my parents for 30+ years. She saw me and immediately knew something was wrong. She hugged me and that was the moment I started to cry. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. It felt good having a parent take care of me, hold me, instead of me taking care of my parent. It was selfish I know, but it felt good. I stayed for an hour, told my friend I was sorry I couldn't help, but I would see her later that evening at the rehearsal dinner.


I remember walking in the house and I could tell that my dad just told her goodbye. His eyes were glassy, puffy. His face was flush. He told me he thought it was a good time for me to say goodbye as well. He left me alone in the living room with my mom. She wasn't even conscious. I sat there for a few minutes holding her hand. It was so cold. Say goodbye? How do you pack 22 years of love and affection into a goodbye? I started crying, uncontrollably sobbing, and laid my head on her shoulder. I told her how much I loved her. I told her I was so sorry this had happened to her. I told her life wasn't fair. I told her she was the best mother a daughter could ask for. I promised to take care of Dad. I told her I was going to miss her. I told herhow much I loved her over and over again. I wanted to make sure she left this world knowing at least that.


I remember sitting in silence with my Dad. There was nothing we could say. We knew exactly what each other was thinking. We were eating lunch later, when my brother walked through the door. He had flown in from Florida for my friend's wedding. In my brother's typical fashion he said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I remember my father and I standing in our kitchen waiting for my brother to finish his goodbye. He came into the kitchen when he was done, tears in his eyes and said, "She looked at me and said I'm dying."

I remember being upset that she spoke to my brother during his goodbye. Why didn't she acknowledge me? Why didn't she tell me she loved me back? Why didn't she tell me she was going to miss me too?

I remember that night. I left my Mom and Dad to go to my friend's rehearsal dinner. I told my Dad to call me if anything happened. I checked my cell phone every 5 minutes. After the dinner our group of friends were going out to some bars, but I opted to go home to be with my Mom and help my Dad. It was surreal when I arrived back home. It was dark in the living room with only one lamp on low. My Dad was sitting in his chair next to my Mom. The TV wasn't on. It was peaceful. For a second I thought she had passed, but then I heard her breathing. The death rattle they called it. That's how you know someone is going to die.

I remember that night. I remember it was the first time in a really long time my Dad didn't have a beer or a Manhattan. I remember the 2 of us sitting in the living room, me on the floor my Dad still in his chair. I remember us reminiscing about the past 10 months, about the funny things my Mom did and said, about how she said she saw Jesus smiling down at her.

I remember helping my Dad administer her final dose of medicine, pain killers. I remember falling asleep on the floor on the mattress my Dad had brought down from upstairs.

I remember the next day, the 27th. She was still alive, barely. I got ready for my friend's wedding, had my cousin do my hair and make-up. I went to the church where I kept peaking out of the vestibule to see if my Dad and brother had made it. I knew if they were there my Mom was fine. I spotted my brother who smiled and waved. It was such a simple gesture, but reassured me that he knew how I was feeling and I knew how he was feeling. The ceremony started and no sign of my Dad. I knew it then, that she was gone, she had died.

I remember going from the ceremony straight home and walking through the front door. Most of my family was already there. My Dad said she had been gone for a couple of hours but didn't want me to miss my friend's wedding. My Mom would have wanted it that way. He said he wanted some time alone with her too. They were married for 30 years and 5 months, he deserved at least a couple of hours alone with her.

I remember going straight to her, she looked so peaceful. I remember crying like a little baby. I remember kissing her on the cheek and telling her again how much I loved her. I remember all of us, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunt, my uncle, my cousins, and my cousin's wife all sitting in our living room just looking at her. I remember my aunt (my mom's sister) arriving with her daughter. I remember my aunt commenting on how beautiful I looked in my bridesmaid dress. I remember thinking "holy shit you remind me of my mom" and I never saw it before that moment. I remember the funeral home coming to pick her up. I remember my Dad, my brother, my dog and I standing in the basement while they took her away. I remember the 4 of us emerging from the basement and the house being so quiet, eerily quiet. I remember my dog staring out the front window, as if she was waiting for my mom to return, we were all waiting for her to return.

I remember 8 years ago like it was yesterday, yet I can't remember any time before that. Sure I remember things here and there, but when I think of my mom, I mean really think of her, I remember 8 years ago and I remember cancer. I miss her like crazy. Each year the pain gets a little easier, but there is always a moment when I wish I could see her, talk to her, get her response. Like when I met my husband, when I got married, when I find out I'm pregnant.

I guess the more I think about it, I remember more than just cancer: I remember my mom being beautiful inside and out. I remember my mom liking white zinfandel. I remember my mom loving to read books, smut books. I remember my mom being smart. I remember my mom's singing voice. I remember her sneeze and how I jumped every time she did it. I remember her enjoying cross stitching. I remember her loving Christmas and those silly Christmas sweaters. I remember where she sat on our couch. I remember her hands and how I envied her manicure. I remember her smile. I remember feeling loved.

R.I.P Mom. 10-27-01

Anxiety

For the past 2 months you have been feeling dizzy. Standing on a subway platform makes you nervous so you step a few feet back. Passing someone on a sidewalk on the street side makes you nervous so you pass them on the inside or don't pass at all. Walking through a cross walk makes you nervous because you might trip or even worse, pass out. You deal with it. You know when you feel dizzy you need to pause and readjust your eyes. If that doesn't work you give your head a little shake and try to refocus.


Now to go along with the dizziness you have waves of nausea. You wake up and feel nauseous, you go to bed and feel nauseous, and a few times throughout the day you feel nauseous. There's really nothing you can do to help it. You take a few sips of water and if there are crackers nearby you eat some. Other than that, you wait for it to pass. Your first reaction is maybe you're pregnant. You panic thinking you're not ready to be a mom. You take a pregnancy test, it comes back negative. You sigh with slight relief, however being pregnant would be an easy answer to your problems.

You suddenly realize your vision seems to be blurry. You have an extremely hard time focusing on the computer. Sunlight coming through your office windows makes it worse. You squint a little to help your screen come back into focus. If the light is too strong you start to get a headache. Even without bright lights you realize you are getting headaches on a regular basis. You used to never get headaches.

You got to webMd and track your symptoms. They say you could have anything ranging from post partum depression, to ear infections, to cancer. You rule out the depression factor being you haven't had a baby. You finally decide to call the doctor.

The doctor tells you your vital signs look good. Your blood pressure is a little high, but that could be stess related. He runs an EKG and your heart looks good. He's stumped. He orders blood work and prescribes you a prescription to help the nausea subside. He tells you to not have caffeine, don't drink, and take it easy, don't do any rigorous activity.

Stupidly, you google all of the check marks on your blood work sheet. There are 22 checks. 3 checks are for B12 deficiency, 2 of them are lyme disease, 1 you have no idea what it's for, 16 of them are cancer related. You curse Google for being so damn smart.

Anxiety has overtaken you. You can't sleep at night thinking too much. The anti-biotics have yet to kick in. Your headaches get worse. You can't wait until the 20th for your follow-up appointment. You dread the 20th expecting the worst.

Our 1 Year Anniversary

And they said we wouldn't make it! Ha! My husband told me a lot of people bet against whether or not we would make it through our first year of marriage owed him money. We did it! September 13, 2009 we celebrated our one year anniversary. The whole anniversary weekend was quite delightful. We started the weekend off with pizza at our favorite pizza joint, Saturday we had dinner in the city with some co-workers and saw a Beatles cover band, and Sunday we spent the day on our boat with our 2 best friends checking the NFL scores on our phones. It was perfect, quite delightful.

Tomorrow we are heading to The Sagamore Resort in Bolton Landing, NY where we were married. Our wedding coordinator was gracious enough to upgrade our cheap asses up to a suite instead of a regular room. We are both so excited to go. The week after we were married, the hotel was taken over by new ownership. Unfortunately a few people we knew were laid off, however the new company had the money to make much needed upgrades. My husband and I can't wait to see what was done to the place! One of my favorite things to do at The Sagamore is sit on the Veranda (shown right), have a cocktail, and watch the world go by. By the world I mean people, weddings, boats on the water, etc. It's so peaceful and so relaxing.

Our wedding weekend was the best weekend of my life, but so much more, it was when I started my new life with my husband.

A year ago my life changed for the better. A year ago I married the man of my dreams. A year ago falling asleep became much easier lying next to my husband and waking up became much more pleasant seeing him next to me. A year ago I gained a 2nd family, I became an in-law. A year ago my best friend became my husband. A year ago I suddenly felt safe. A year ago I realized I was happy.

Thank you, hubby, for the last year. I can't wait for the next years to come. I love you.